


Graveyard Whistling

by huilcvebot



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 02:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20538419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huilcvebot/pseuds/huilcvebot
Summary: we were the people who were not in the papers. we lived in the blank white spaces at the edges of print. it gave us more freedom. we lived in the gaps between the stories. that's what   made our love so drastically true.even though we never said it to each other, we knew......that love could last an eternity of galaxies, but time could not.





	1. Chapter 1

7h45am |  
45 days until the end of the world

̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ 

adachi yuto let out a suffocating yawn as he calmly strode towards the graveyard's tall black cast iron gate that encircled the whole perimeter. its spearhead finials shot up towards the sky painted in mixed tons of jaded blue and orange, a peaceful scenery whose rightful author could only be the settling autumn sunrise. 

locking the keys in, the gates were opened in a creak sound that haunted its surroundings with an echo that seemed to last forever. yuto sighed. he scanned the landscape with tired eyes, concluding everything still looked untouched and sad. liveless. dead. 

the graveyard was big and sprawling, with wandering roads and paths decorated with ponds, gardens and stands of weeping willows. the marble statures of grieving angels and infants could be seen in every corner and intersection of the pavement, making the environment a bit darker and heavier to digest. whenever yuto walked past one of them, he felt as though the air was being sucked out of his lungs and therefore he avoided contact with them.

sitting on a bed of grass, next to a grave covered with red tulips and white lilies that gave off a delicate but mesmerizing scent, yuto pulled a yellow notebook out of his coat pocket. he loved poetry. he had read that the dead were comforted when someone spoke to them as if their presence was still there, so he began to recite poetry to every lonely grave in the cemetery he could find.

he didn't know if that made him look mad, ridiculous or insane, but he too found peace of mind in the dead. nothing ever phased them anymore. they didn't feel pain, nor the sudden need to cry, the need to burst in raging anger, the need to fake a smile when all you wanna do is punch a brick wall. yuto envied that. he felt too much, and it destroyed him.

today's liveless body was of a boy named jung wooseok. from the photo forever immortalized on his gravestone, he realized just how young the boy was when he passed away on a tragic car accident. yuto flickered through the pages until he found a poem that he thought would make wooseok's spirit smile. 

"do not stand at my grave and weep  
i am not there; i do not sleep.  
i am a thousand winds that blow,  
i am the diamond glints on snow,  
i am the sun on ripened grain,  
i am the gentle autumn rain.  
when you awaken in the morning's hush  
i am the swift uplifting rush  
of quiet birds in circled flight.   
i am the soft stars that shine at night.   
do not stand at my grave and cry,   
i am not there; i did not die."

"i hope you liked that," yuto whispered, only getting a response from a sudden gust of wind that blew through his smooth dark brown hair. he ran his fingers through it as he searched for the pack of his cigarettes in his other pocket. 

just as he was about to lit the poison hanging from his parted lips, yuto heard a faint echo of a whistle that instantly caught his attention. he put out his lighter as his curious eyes roamed the area ahead of him, landing on a massive brooding masoleum that seemed to be holding the cause of the sudden melody echoing alongside the joyful chirping of birds. 

yuto believed in paranormal activity, but he had never witnessed such a peculiar occurence to this day. he felt his heart pounding faster against his aroused chest as he stepped closer to the masoleum. maybe it was all in his head, but he could've sworn he had seen bits of dark brown hair creeping from behind the massive structure. 

it was only then that yuto made the mistake of stepping on a branch as he approached the location, alarming the figure to hide away before it was caught. the bits of hair were gone and so was the whistle. 

yuto took a deep breathe before growing the courage to circle around the masoleum in search for any sort of evidence that could prove someone had broke in. upon stumbling on a pair of footprints marked on the muddy soil, he looked over the fence that led up to the gate. there, he saw a boy in a black hoodie casually stroding his way down the main road. as if sensing that yuto was watching him, the boy turned around and flashed him an unexpected smile. 

yuto was speechless. even though he could not clearly make out the boy's face from afar, his michievous smile spoke volumes. he had broke in against all odds. he was whistle boy.


	2. 02

11h23 |  
42 days till the end of the world

̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ 

yuto rolled over to the side of his bed in a sleepy stretch, absently eyeing the white clock resting on the wooden night table next to his sprawled, numb body. 42 days. he had another 42 days to live. it was a weird feeling for sure – to have your last miserable breathes on earth counted down for you every morning when you woke up from a deep sleep.

he used to be afraid of the unknown. death was a thought that scared him in the early stages of his adolescence as he watched his grandpa plead for one last chance at living. needless to say his wish wasn't granted. yuto watched as he let out a sufferable sigh and his chest stopped moving. gone. his grandpa was gone. forever.

ever since, his mind kept wondering to a dark place from which he couldn't find an escape for. he felt himself getting trapped between thick walls of pain and paranoia each day that ticked by. until one day, he chose not to care anymore. 

it was easy to pretend. to convince himself life had become so meaningless he shouldn't worry about waking up the next day or never seeing the sun again. but forgetting? that was probably the hardest mental exercise yuto had to force himself through. by then, memories were erased and smiles slowly faded.   
the will to live was whisked away.   
now he was a walking corpse awaiting the same ending the world had served his grandpa long ago.

removing the blankets from his bare torso, yuto mentally prepared himself for another day of work with the dead. he enjoyed it merely because it was quiet and there was barely any social interaction he had to. water the plants, read poetry, count graves, make sure everything looked nice and steady for the occasional graveyard visits. simple and silent.

silent, until the whistle was back.

yuto flickered through the pages of his yellow notebook in hopes to find something soothing to recite to a little girl who's life had been taken away by a tragic rare disease. just as he opened his mouth to read in the quiet of the cemetery, the familiar whistle he had heard the other day echoed through the walls of the masoleum again.

he sighed to himself, thinking maybe it was his imagination tricking him due to lack of sleep. however, as he stared at the masoleum for a little while longer, he managed make out a pair of curious, glistening eyes peeking from behind the structure.   
as they caught yuto staring, they were quickly sweeped away from sight.

the latter raised an eyebrow. could it be? quick flashbacks of the michievous boy in a black hoodie flooded his mind and his eyes shot open at the sudden resemblance of the boy's features with the pair of eyes previously staring at him. yuto was now sure he had broke in again. 

however, he decided it would be best to pretend he was not there. unaware of his intentions, he couldn't predict the other boy's action if he got any closer. carrying on with the poem, yuto abstracted himself from his surroundings as he got lost in the melody of words that softly left his mouth towards the flowery grave.

"come for me, sweet tomorrow.  
help me touch the sky.  
like a well-learned bird opens its wings,  
i, too, want to fly high.  
don't let the darkness of yesterday  
blind my vision to evolve.  
coming out of the bitterness of the past,  
help me let my flaws absolve.  
make me like a rainbow,  
the colours mingled together,  
but all of them in show.  
help me discover my hidden talents  
and pull myself together with efforts gallant.  
let me be a beacon of goodness  
for the people i meet.  
help me hear the music of life  
and follow every beat.  
come for me, sweet tomorrow.  
help me touch the sky;  
like a well-learned bird opens its wings,  
i, too, want to fly high."

yuto too wished to fly high, but we was stuck drowning in his own pool of suffocating misery since birth. with trembling hands, one of them mechanically found it's way inside his coat pocket to fetch for his cheap pack of cigarettes that so easily drenched the pain away. 

"trying to die before we're supposed to?" yuto heard a sweet, honey tickled voice he wasn't familiared with sounding a few meters away. looking up from his lap, he found himself staring at the black hoodie boy sitting legs crossed against the big masoleum. he had a playful smile lingering around his face as he dangled his fingers on the rough soil in pure content and ease.

"would that be so bad?" yuto replied with an uneasy smile plastered on his quiet features. the boy's smile quickly widdened into a grin that made yuto's heart flutter. 

hoping the strange feeling in his chest would fade away, he clucthed a hand to it as he sensed his pounding heart pulsing vigorously against the palm of his hand. a deafening ring made its way onto his ears once he saw the boy dusting off the dirt from his denim jeans and proceeding to come closer to yuto.

suddenly he didn't feel like dying anymore.


End file.
